


All the times I almost told you.

by elisa_anya



Category: Supernatural
Genre: 5 Times, 5 times +1, 5+1 Things, Alternate Universe - Royalty, Arranged Marriage, Fake Marriage, Fluff and Angst, King Castiel (Supernatural), M/M, Minor Eileen Leahy/Sam Winchester, Modern Royalty, Prince Castiel (Supernatural), Royalty, Smut, Soldier Dean
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-19
Updated: 2020-02-23
Packaged: 2021-02-27 07:54:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 20,073
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22323676
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elisa_anya/pseuds/elisa_anya
Summary: A brief journey through the years of the life of Dean, a soldier who is irrevocably in love with prince Castiel. Duty and love is all Dean knows and he will do anything for Cas, even break his own heart over and over.ORFive times Dean almost tells Castiel how he really feels and one time he does.
Relationships: Castiel & Dean Winchester, Castiel/Dean Winchester, Eileen Leahy & Sam Winchester, Eileen Leahy/Sam Winchester
Comments: 50
Kudos: 389





	1. When they were alone in the woods for the last time.

**Author's Note:**

> Hi guys. I am writing a fic that I luvvvv but in the meantime I thought about this and I had fun doing so, so I was like what the hell, I may just take a little detour and write this! I love the prince or king Castiel verses so I made my own!
> 
> If you enjoy the story, go ahead and comment your thoughts/suggestions/critiques. 
> 
> Sorry in advance if you find anything weird in my writing, sometimes I don't know WHY my brain mixes up words that sounds kinda similar, like 'year' and 'ear' and I don't notice it at all. Living a full on Spanglish life really messes with my brain. Feel free to bring any errors of grammar/spelling up.
> 
> I'm posting two chapters in a row, currently about to finish writing the third, we'll see when the rest come.

“I fucking hate this,” Cas moans, teeth chattering.

Dean sighs. “It’ll be over soon.”

It’s their last training session in the woods. They’re laying on the mud pressed up together to keep each other as warm as possible. The bitter cold bites every inch of exposed skin in their bodies, their hands ache badly from it but they keep their positions, guns ready, ears sharp-- well, at least Dean's are over the sound of Castiel's complains. It’s raining which doesn’t help their situation. They’re dirty, tired and hungry. It sucks big time but Dean doesn’t want it to end. It’s the last time out there on those woods that are now so familiar to them and Dean wishes they could stay there together forever. In the morning they will be back in their dorms and a few days later they’ll head home never to return here again. No more seeing each other every day, no more sleepy Castiel complaining in the mornings that he’s tired, no more studying together until the crack of dawn, no more keeping watch through the night together in these damn exercises. Cas detests them but Dean has grown to tolerate them; the company is too good, he's been pairing up with his best friend for years. Dean could do just about anything with Cas by his side. He’d walk through a freaking desert just to be with him.

The military academy has been all but an easy experience for the both of them but they always regarded it very differently. Castiel, who was forced to go there by a father who wishes him to be tough instead of spoiled by his easy start in life, has always resented it. Dean was forced too, to follow on his father’s footsteps, but he always found some sort of purpose in it. He was good at it, he could look back on all his accomplishment, all that he had endured and learned, and he could be proud of himself. So yeah, he isn’t as ready to leave as Castiel is, and it isn’t just because this place had grown to sort of be a second home to Dean but because the thought of never seeing Castiel again makes him feel sick. Cas always tries to reassure him, telling Dean he’s being dramatic; they’re not dying, they’re just graduating. He promises he’ll write all the time but even if he does remember to do it what with the busy schedule the royals always have, it will never be enough to satiate his needs. Dean wants Cas in flesh and blood by his side, like now, feeling his warmth through the night. He wants to hear his laughter, see the colour in his eyes. Castiel, no more and no less than a prince, will go on with his life and his duties to his country while Dean does the same in a completely different way; the prince will rule alongside his family while his servant friend will continue to fight for it in the military. It’s impossible to tell when they will see each other again and it’s driving Dean insane.

“I’m  _ not _ going to miss this,” Cas complains again.

Dean feels a knot on his stomach. He couldn't disagree more.

“I’m going to fucking freeze to death.”

“You’re such a princess,” Dean mutters, playfully kicking Castiel’s foot with his. 

“ _ Prince _ ,” Cas corrects him.

Over the corner of his eye, Dean sees him smile; Castiel loves complaining, sometimes just to piss Dean off. Cas is distracted, even his face is shaking and the finger close to the trigger seems dangerously lose.

“If you shoot by accident and give our position away, I’m gonna kill you,” Dean whispers.

Cas snorts. “I wish.”

A part of Dean resents a little how ready Castiel is to leave, how much he seems to be looking forwards to it. Isn’t he worried about the future of their friendship? Does he really hate the academy so much more than he values their relationship? Dean knows how much he despises the military life, he gets it… but he’s so in love with his prince, he would gladly do it all over again to have all those years together on repeat. Every summer they spent apart, Dean was counting down the days to see him again, following Castiel’s trips with the royal family on the news almost religiously. Every day Castiel chose to be his friend was a gift and every time Dean made him laugh was engraved in his memories. He is hopelessly, irrevocably and profoundly in love with Castiel and there is nothing he could do about it. Dean has made his peace with knowing Cas doesn’t feel the same and it’s only just logical that he doesn’t. He’s a royal after all, he could have whoever he wanted and will live to do great things. Dean will just be another soldier, so who cares? But the apparent lack of fear from Castiel's side of what the future holds for their friendship makes Dean uneasy, unsure of it all. Losing Cas is something that Dean hasn’t made his peace with.

“Have you decided what to do after this?”

“We shouldn’t be talking.”

Castiel elbows him. Dean elbows him back, harder; he’s never gone easy on Cas, he will push back if Cas does it first and will speak to him like he does to any other person in the world, crown on his head or not. Cas doesn’t seem to mind. If anything he likes that Dean treats him like a normal person.

“Come on, tell me. I’m bored,” Cas whispers a plea.

Dean closes his eyes for a second, asking God for patience. He’s been avoiding having this conversation with Cas, he knows his friend’s not going to like his answer.

“Well, I’ve been talking to my dad…”

Castiel’s eyebrows shoot up and he almost fully turns around on the mud. Dean kicks him to remind him to keep his position steady.

“Cas—”

“You’re not going into the military, are you?”

The prince sounds genuinely concerned. Dean, selfishly, likes that. He avoids meeting his eyes, instead straining himself trying to see something in the dark; the sooner he shoots that one last soldier, the sooner they’ll be able to go back to the dorms and Cas will quit complaining.

“Actually, I am. Sniper training. It's a tough program to get into but Dad thinks I’ve got a pretty good chance of making it.”

Silence settles between them. Dean can  _ feel _ Cas looking at him. Even his silence sounds concern.

“Cas, I’m good at it,” Dean adds.

The prince doesn’t reply so Dean turns his head around. They’re so close, he could so easily lean in and kiss him. God, has he thought about doing it more times than he could count but he’s never been brave enough to break the distance between them. The prince’s usually beautiful face contorts into something ugly, his lips trembling from the cold and trying to resist the urge to cry. Dean relaxes in his position, taken aback by his friend’s unexpected response.

“Hey, what—”

“I don’t want you to go to the military. Dean, please— if anything happens to you—”

“Nothing is going to happen to me.”

“It’s the  _ military _ , Dean. They could deploy you literally anywhere. You don’t know that you’ll be safe.”

“I will kick ass anywhere then, in the name of my country and my King. And my prince,” he adds at the end, bumping their elbows affectionately. It doesn’t make Cas smile.

“You think this is funny?”

“No,” Dean replies, his smile dropping. He  _ is _ being serious, never has been more serious his whole life. This is the best he can do for Castiel, to offer his life to him, to keep him safe and protected. “Cas, I want to serve my country. I wanna serve you.”

“You want to serve me? Then I order you to stay.”

“You can’t order me to stay,” Dean replies, rolling his eyes and looking away. “You promised never to give me an order.”

“And you promised me never to treat me like a royal. I don’t want you to serve me, I want you to be alive, in my life.”

The truth hangs from Dean’s tongue but it stays there. Dean’s not doing it because Cas is royal, he’s doing it because he’s in love and he will do whatever it takes to ensure Castiel’s safety's whether he's a prince, a soldier, a baker or whatever fate would have him be. Dean would be honored to be a part of an army that does just that.

Dean breaks position, leaving his gun on the mud to take his friend’s hand. Castiel grasps it like he won’t ever let go again, desperately. Once more an egotistic side of Dean enjoys Castiel’s reaction, how the object of his affection clings to him like Dean’s heart clings to Cas. 

“I’m not doing this because you’re my prince, Cas, I—” 

He wants to say it. Once in his lifetime, he wishes he could say it outloud. It’s such a heavy burden to think about it all the time, being afraid of saying it accidentally,  _ I love you _ , but Dean can’t physically bring himself up to do it. The regret will eat him up onr day, he knows it, but he just can’t say it…

“You’re my friend. My best friend. I’ll do anything to protect you and my family and my country.”

“You’ve really made up your mind, huh?”

Letting go of his hand and resuming his position, Dean nods.

“At least promise me you’ll come back.”

_ To you, always. _

“Of course I’ll come back, Cas.”

The stay in silence for a few minutes. Castiel sniffles, Dean doesn’t say anything. They almost make it 15 minutes before Cas breaks the silence again. He’s shaking against Dean’s side like crazy.

“I am so going to get pneumonia.”

Containing the urge to kick him again, Dean decides that’s it, he’d had it. He moves quickly, paying attention to his surroundings all the time, as he quickly strips off his combat jacket and lays it on top of Cas. The prince yanks it off him immediately.

“You’ll fucking freeze,” his friend hisses but Dean just puts it on top of his friend again.

“Your dad will have my head if I let you freeze to death.”

“The whole point of him sending me here is for me  _ not _ to get any special favours for being a prince, Dean. He  _ wants _ me to be in discomfort. To toughen up or _whatever._ ”

“Yeah, well, I don’t, so take my jacket and shut your cake hole, please.”

Giving up his jacket doesn't help much in the end, Cas doesn't stop complaining. 

The last soldier finally falls in their trap and Dean shoots him (with fake bullets obviously). They finish their assignment and walk back to the dorms with stiff legs and numb fingers. Cas talks excitedly about getting tea, Dean is quiet thinking of the years ahead of them and the inevitably distance between them that's coming.


	2. When Dean came back from war.

_13_ _years later_

The war is over and the soldiers march down the streets welcomed like heroes by their people. Flowers are thrown at them, people cheer over the marching band. Dean walks side by side with his brother, his arm on a cast as it heals, his spirit tired. Today’s a celebration, at least for the people who didn’t shed blood. For him it’s just a pause to finally breathe but with that pause comes time to look back on all the awful things he’s done, all the people he’s killed. He doesn’t know their names, didn’t even see some of their faces. It stirs his stomach just to think about it. Who were they? Who waited for them at home? What were their hopes, dreams, their motives to go to war?

But despite all the horror, despite the PTSD, the nightmares and the blood in his hands, there’s hope in his heart, things to look forwards to. He will finally see Castiel again, after so many years. They never stopped being friends, as the young prince promised him all those years ago they kept writing to each other, even when Dean was away fighting for his country. Even after all that time, all the distance, his feelings never wavered, his heart never belonged to anyone else. He may have slept with other people, shared short relationships with them, but his mind was always elsewhere, waiting for the next letter from his royal highness.

Dean supposes that all his sacrifices and efforts have finally paid off. He did well during the war, so much that he was awarded a Medal of Honor (the highest possible military decoration), pinned to his chest by the King himself, and an invitation to the celebrations in the palace that night. As proud as he should be about it, the medal is not nearly as important as the fact that he’s been invited to the home of the man he’s loved since he was young and naive enough to let his heart fall for someone he can’t ever have. Everything he ever did led him to his moment, to being worthy of Castiel’s presence.

On the surface he looks calm but inside his heart races out of control. They’re entering the palace’s gates now which are open, inviting them in, the courageous heroes who defended the land and won the war. In the distance Dean sees him, standing with the King and his other sons, welcoming the soldiers into the palace. His mouth is suddenly dry, his ears deaf to sound. He feels 17 again, heads over heels in love. As they get closer, Castiel’s beauty seems to magnify. Dean’s seen him in photographs, of course, but it’s not the same, it’s not like seeing the actual sparkles in those blue eyes, the fullness of his pink lips. And, oh, the sound of his laughter! If Dean could hear it, just one more time, he’d give anything for it.

Cas suddenly spots him. They look at each other for what feels like eternity. The prince’s face breaks into a wide smile, an  _ honestly _ happy smile, and Dean melts inside. He breaks his serious, professional facade to return the smallest of hopeful smiles to his friend. He gives the small nod or recognition in his direction, then looks away, urging himself to get a grip. The last thing he needs is for the world to know he’s in love with the prince and Dean’s always felt it was plain to see it on his eyes whenever he looked at Cas, the live version or even photographs.

The evening party is fun, the food is the best many of the soldiers have had in  _ years _ . The palace is majestic, from the chandeliers to the carpet and the paintings in the wall. Everything looks spotless, stunning,  _ expensive _ . They vow to the King, they hear some speeches, then they eat, drink and party, probably all night, Dean’s not sure how these things go in a palace. Honestly Dean doesn’t have the energy in him to pretend to be in a festive mood all night and something tells him the King doesn’t either; after all he lost his favourite son to this war, his immediate heir, Michael. So hopefully the night won’t last long enough for Dean to accidentally show the cracks on his soul that Sam so carefully watches out for, but long enough that he will be able to see Castiel.

One more time… He just wants to see Castiel  _ one more time _ . During the war, every time he felt like giving up, when his body felt too tired to keep running, when his soul felt too weak to keep taking lives, he told himself he had to continue; he had to protect his country and he absolutely had to survive, just to see the prince one more time, to fulfil his promise that he would come home. After that, Dean’s not sure what he’d do. Try to move on, probably, if possible. Find someone he can form a bond with, even if he never loves them as much as he’ll love Cas; settle down somewhere nice, form a family and have a few kids and watch Sammy do the same. Just find another thing to live for...

Protocols and politics bound the prince to talk to many people that night. For him, every public appearance is work so it takes him a while to be able to be free and do what he pleases, but eventually he is able to go to Dean, almost forgetting himself and the people around them as he approaches his friend, who intentionally walked away from his brother and peers for a moment. Castiel seems to be about to hug him before he realises where they are and instead offers his hand to shake Dean’s enthusiastically, his other hand on the soldier’s shoulder. He doesn’t let go, not for a few long seconds.

“Dean,” he whispers, breathless, grinning from ear to ear.

Dean can barely find the strength to speak through the lump in his throat. To feel Castiel’s skin on his again is to feel alive once more. He fights the urge to cry as he is strongly reminded once again why he did all the things he did for the last decade; it was for this, for Cas, to protect that beautiful smile.

He bows his head, clears his throat and says, “your royal highness.”

“God, please don’t call me that,” Cas laughs. When he pulls his hands away, Dean catches himself leaning forwards, chasing the comfort of his sweetheart’s touch. He gets a grip of himself, closing his hand into a fist by his side.

“Gotta keep protocol… Cas,” he adds in a lower town. “There’s loads of eyes watching you.”

Cas nods, unable to stop smiling. They stare at each other, lost for words for a moment. There’s so much Dean wishes he could say, so many words he never had the courage to write in his letters, but it’s not the right place, time or lifetime. He tells himself this is enough, this is what he asked for; just seeing him one more time, just one more smile, one more touch. Then, as he once promised Sammy, he will do a God’s honest effort to move on, to find love elsewhere.

The prince suddenly chuckles, averting his eyes to see people looking at them. He doesn’t seem bothered by it, after all he was born with the eyes of his country and the world watching him, but Dean feels self conscious, he’s not used to an audience. Hell, after so long in battle, he’s not even used to seeing this many people in one place that aren’t trying to kill each other.

“It’s odd, there’s so much I want to tell you yet I don’t know where to start.”

“I understand,” Dean agrees, scratching the back of his neck nervously. He stops as soon as he realises he’s doing it, leaving his good hand behind his back, adopting that rigid soldier posture of his.

From the corner of his eyes, he sees Sammy approaching. He’s wanted to introduce him to Cas for years but when the moment finally arrives, he can’t help but wish it was just the two of them, if only for a little longer.

Castiel sees him too. He leans a little closer, lowering his voice so that only Dean can hear him next. “Listen, could you meet me later, in about two hours, in the gardens on the back? There’s a fountain of a mermaid. We should have some privacy there.”

Dean tries not to look too eager when he nods. “Of course.”

Sam and Benny catch up with them, both saluting the prince formally, although they both almost feel like they know him after hearing Dean talk about him for years. Cas is pleasant with them, friendly even, but Dean can tells he’s holding back, he’s acting the part of the proper prince, with his back straight and his words carefully chosen. It’s great introducing some of his favourite people to each other but deep down Dean itches for the time to pass by until he’s supposed to meet Cas, alone. 

The night goes by in a blur. He’s introduced to so many people, he can barely keep up with their names. It fables him how easy some of the soldiers seem to blend in, to relax into the festivities. He feels stiff inside, in his soul, toughen by the long years of war. He’s almost forgotten that  _ this _ is supposed to be normal— well, not being in the palace but enjoying life— instead of being hungry and covered in mud and blood more often than not. Sam seems happy to be back in town and tries to help him into conversations, but Dean has grown rather quiet in the past years, not the most extroverted guy out there, and he feels like a fish out of water amongst his peers who are drinking and celebrating.

Some of the soldiers decide to leave and keep the partying going in the bars in town; there they can  _ really _ drink, possibly get women too. Benny tries to convince Dean to go; a handsome fella like him, a wounded war hero, would have such an easy time finding someone to share a bed with, but Dean declines the invitation. Even if he weren’t thinking of seeing Cas, he would still not go. It’s just not in him, for now at least. Sam wants to stay with him but Dean tells him to go and shares the truth with him, that he will meet with the prince later. His brother, the only soul in the world who knows about his true feelings towards the monarch, doesn’t say a word and leaves him be for once, leaving with his comrades after patting Dean on the shoulder.

Dean then breaks from his group and passes the time with some lieutenants, even joins in a conversation with a few generals who congratulate him for his part in the war. It’s such a bizarre experience to be applauded for killing people but he doesn’t share that thought. 

Before the times come to meet with Cas, he’s already out in the gardens, strolling around slowly. The outdoors are beautiful, perfectly kept, adorned with all sorts of flowers and ornaments. He finds the mermaid fountain and sits on the edge. He touches the cold water, drawing circles on the surface. Looking around, he tries to imagine Cas growing up here, running through the bushes as a child, playing hide and seek with his brothers, or spending the summers here writing letters to Dean.

This particular spot is kind of romantic, in Dean’s opinion. Not that he knows a lot about romance, but still. He wonders if Cas has taken other people out here, if he’s kissed them in dark corners. He wonders who Castiel loves, who are the lucky ones who have tasted his lips and touched his body. It makes his blood boil hot jealousy but Dean would be a hypocrite to be mad about it, he’s been with so many other people himself. And the prince is not his, it isn’t his place to be jealous. Dean can’t help but be envious still.

He considers telling Castiel how he feels, he truly does. Maybe if he said it, if he heard it with his own ears, he’d realised how ridiculous the whole thing was and have some life changing revelation about confusing a truly strong friendship with love. Or maybe Castiel would gently turn him down and free Dean from continuously daydreaming about what could happen if Cas felt the same. Maybe if his hopes were crushed, if he knew  _ for sure _ that there’s no way ever for them to be together, he’d be able to move on more easily. So he considers it, he even plans his words just in case he could truly gathers the courage to do it. He’s confused, truly torn between just keeping it to himself or spitting it out, continuing being Castiel’s best friend and confidant or risking losing him forever and trying to finally be free from a lifetime of secrecy and wondering.

“Dean.”

The soldier’s head shots up to see the prince walking towards him with his arms open and a pleased smile on his face. Knees feeling weak with emotion, Dean meets him halfway and they put their arms around each other. The lovestruck soldier holds him close, breathing in the manly scent of Cas, his cologne, memorising the moment to the last detail in his mind. The crickets, the fabric of the prince’s suit jacket on his fingers, the way Castiel holds him back like it’s been  _ too fucking long _ . It truly has been. 

“God, it’s so good to see you. You finally came back!” Cas grins as he pulls away, gently touching Dean’s cast with one hand.

“I promised you I would, didn’t I?”

“Yes, you did… Come on, walk with me.”

The stunning man guides him through the garden into more concealed places, away from the party and potential prying eyes. Dean has wild daydreams in which he pushes Cas against a wall of vegetation and kisses him passionately. Nobody would see, nobody would know, and his dreams would come true. At the same time, it makes him anxious to drive the well known prince away from the security of the palace. As good a fighter as Dean is, he’s injured right now. War or not war, Castiel should  _ always _ be under protection so at the very least Dean keeps his eyes open, looking around the unfamiliar grounds without fully relaxing, keeping himself ready in case anything happens. 

“So? What do you think of the palace?”

“It’s beautiful, of course.”

Castiel snorts, lifting an eyebrow. He doesn’t seem surprised by his friend’s answer though, just amused by it. “You don’t sound very impressed.”

Dean shrugs. “You know I’m not a material guy.”

“Yeah, yeah, good old Dean Winchester is selfless and good and just wants to serve his country.”

Cas shoves him playfully, grinning. He seems in good spirits, which Dean is grateful for. The war was hard on him too. He wanted to fight with his men but the King wouldn’t let him. He was kept away from danger and for years he tried to convince his father to reach some sort of peace treaty for which he was always heavily criticised. Castiel was never the kind of man who enjoyed violence and he hated the thought of his people dying while he hid away. The death of his brother took a toll on him but Dean has never known just how much, Cas has kept that burden to himself.

“Damn straight.”

“You did a fine job at that too. Got a medal and all.”

Castiel points at it and Dean looks down at it, to this day not knowing how to feel about it. He’s thankful for his sacrifices and efforts getting acknowledged, but he’s not proud of what he did per se, so he just shrugs and mumbles a forced thank you. 

“What, you’re no proud of it? Do you regret going into the military?”

“No,” Dean replies right away because that’s the truth. “No, I will serve my country and the Crown my whole life, without hesitation.”

_ I’ll do anything to keep you safe. _

“But I— I just wish I… didn’t have to do certain things.”

He sits down in a bench and touches his cast. He closes his eyes for a second and sees a pile of bodies. He opens them again, eyes searching for a distraction, for Cas.

“I’m sorry,” the prince sighs, taking a sit next to him. “I tried to stopped the war but it took us so long… You’ve... changed a lot.”

Dean lifts an eyebrow and looks up. “How so?”

“Your smile— it used to be more… boyish.”

Dean chuckles. “We’re men now.”

But the prince shakes his head, his face serious, the weight of the war suddenly clear in his eyes for the first time. “No, it’s not that. It’s not a matter of age, Dean, it’s your spirit. It’s… the war.”

It’s no secret, Dean knows it and knows other people who knew him from before can see it too; the war broke something in him, something he isn’t sure can return. He doesn’t talk about it, even though Sam tries to bring it up, but there sitting with Cas he feels he can be honest for the first time. There’s nothing he wouldn’t do for Castiel but that doesn’t mean his actions don’t weight on him. 

“Yeah, well… I’ll gladly go to Hell knowing I protected my people.”

Cas puts a hand on his shoulder and squeezes with affection. Dean stands still, letting his friend comfort him, leaning ever so slightly on Castiel’s side.

“You’re not going to Hell, Dean. A guilty conscience is a good man’s burden and good men don’t go to Hell.”

“You don’t know what I did, Cas, I—”

The thought brings him to an abrupt stop. He gulps and averts his eyes, hands shaking, eyes wet with tears. If Cas knew, would he still love him? If he knew Dean was capable of being a stone cold killer, would he think less of him?

“You’re right, I don’t. I should have been out there, fighting with you.”

“Don’t be stupid,” Dean retorts, maybe a little too harshly. The thought of Castiel out there fighting, in danger, probably getting himself killed, makes him a little angry. The whole point of everything Dean did was to keep him safe, it’s almost an insult to him that the prince would wish himself in harm’s way. “I’m glad you weren’t there.”

Castiel blinks a couple of times, stunned to silence. Dean’s not sure what he’s thinking, until finally the prince says, “wow, nobody has called me stupid in  _ years _ . Well, not to my face at least.”

“Sorry,” Dean apologizes quickly, “I forget my place sometimes.”

“No, it’s okay. I like that about you.”

Castiel’s hands weights heavy on Dean’s shoulder but not in a bad way. A brief pause in their conversation has Dean’s mind going wild. He wants to tell Cas how he feels and this is the perfect time to do it. Tell him, be rejected and move on. But he’s terrified and the words don’t come out even though he knows exactly what he wants to say. What if he loses Cas  _ permanently _ ? What if they can’t be friends afterwards? He’s not sure he’s ready for that or that he’ll ever be.

For better or for worse, Cas breaks the silence first.

“I don’t know what you went through… but I know I don’t ever want you to go through that again. Maybe I’m just being selfish but after losing my brother…” Cas is momentarily silent, struggling to keep his voice steady. Dean waits patiently. He can’t imagine what it’s like to lose a brother, without Sammy Dean would have gone mad a long time ago. “I can’t do that again. I don’t want you out there fighting in the front line anymore.”

“The war is over, Cas.”

“Yes, well, when you joined the military we didn’t think a war was coming, did we? But it did. It could happen again. Dean,” Cas’ fingers practically dig into his skin as his tone changes to a more urgent one, “you’re my best friend. I don’t know what I’d do if you died. And frankly, I’ve missed you, I’ve missed you  _ a lot _ .”

Dean smiles. He  _ really _ smiles, with true happiness warming his chest for the first time in a long time. He could cry from feeling like that again.

“I’ve missed you too, buddy.”

_ Say it! _ , his heart implores. His hands tremble, his tongue gets ready to speak his truth, but once again Castiel’s faster at getting his thought out in the open.

“What I’m trying to say is, I am offering you a job, Dean. I want you— and Sam too, I know you’re a two package deal— I want you to join the Royal Guard. As my own personal security.”

The offer completely throws Dean off, who just stares without blinking at the prince. He doesn’t react for a moment, not even internally. It’s such an unexpected turn of events, his brain is having trouble processing the information.

“ _ What? _ ”

“Come on, it could be fun! It’s basically getting paid to hang out with me. You’d live here with us and travel around a lot, see loads of different places. And you’ll be perfect for the role. You didn’t think I noticed you scanning the garden if case a terrorist jumped from behind a bush to kill me? You’ve always been the  _ safety first  _ type of guy.”

“You want me to live here… with you.... as your personal security?”

“Yes.”

“For how long?”

Castiel’s taken aback by the response. “I don’t know… It’s a two years contract that can be renewed. So I guess for at least two years.”

_At least_ _two years._

Dean’s spiralling.

He could be here for at least two years and see Cas every single goddamn day. He could watch him smile, hear him laugh, comfort him and protect him for  _ at least _ two years. It would be a huge honour and he should be eternally grateful but he can’t help but hesitate.

One more time, that’s what he told himself, he wanted to see the prince one more time and then  _ try _ to go one with his life. He had promised himself that, that he would try to find his own happiness in some way or another. What was the point in sticking around and having what he can’t have in front of him every day? Torture, it’d be torture.

Sweet torture though. The days they spent at school together were the best in Dean’s life, the happiest. Even with the burden of his secret affections, Castiel always managed to make him happy.

“I don’t know, Cas… I’m not sure it’d be such a great idea.”

Disappointment is evident in the prince’s face, who slowly retreats his hand from Dean’s shoulder.

“Huh, I didn’t not expect that at all…” he mutters, almost to himself. When he looks up with sad, big blue eyes that sparkle even in the dark, Dean almost immediately accepts the offer. “Why not?”

Dean opens and shuts his mouth, then opens it one more time, but no sound comes out. The time has come and yet he can’t say it. He’s killed people, he’s marched more miles than he could count on an empty stomach, he’s spent countless weeks barely sleeping, he buried more friends than a person should… and this one simple thing he cannot do. He can’t confess his feelings, he’s lived with the secret for too long, too comfortably, to step into the light.

He’s a coward so he lies.

“Cas, I’m not made for this,” he gestures towards the palace, avoiding his friend’s eyes in case he’ll see the truth in them. “I’m not fancy, I don’t know how to act around fancy people. Jesus, I called you  _ stupid _ . Can you imagine if I do that in front of other people? I could literally be punished for that alone.”

“That’s what worries you? Don’t worry about it, you’ll get used to it, everyone does. During public appearances you won’t even have to speak, you just need to make sure I don’t get killed which you should be good at.”

“Cas—”

“Come on, Dean! We used to have so much fun back at school, didn’t we? It could be like the old times, you and me against the world! Except no more mud and now you get to spend time with Sam too.”

Castiel’s face is full of hope and expectations, eyes wide in a plea, a smile pulling at the corner of his lips. He looks so excited at the idea, it’s truly endearing, it makes Dean happy to be wanted at the palace, in his life, every day for two years. It’s unfair, truly, how irresistible the prince is, what with that beautiful face and that charming personality. Dean feels his resolve melting like ice in the desert; fuck his promise to himself, fuck trying to find a person to settle down with. He’s been in love with Cas for close to two decades, what’s two years more going to do to him? It cannot possible get any worse.

Dean rolls his eyes and can’t help but smile once he gives into the decision. It should really be a good time, hanging out with Cas in a daily basis. 

“Cas, you should know, if I take this job, you gotta listen to me, alright? We can’t just be friends hanging out, you’ve gotta let me protect you.”

Castiel erupts into a wide smile. “Is that a yes?”

“It’s a  _ maybe _ . I need to talk about it with Sam first,” Dean corrects him, elbowing him on the ribs playfully.

“Okay, you do that and let me know.” Cas pats his shoulder, still smiling, and starts towards the palace. “I’ll see you soon, okay, Dean?”

“Yes, your royal highness.”

Cas throws a flower at him. “Don’t call me that!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> UP NEXT:  
> When Cas asked Dean to marry him.


	3. When Cas asked Dean to marry him.

_ Three years later _ .

The last few weeks have been stressful, to say the least. 

Overall, the few last years hadn't been bad at all. Living with Cas and seeing him every day was a blessing and a curse, but Dean coped with it well. They enjoyed their time together, made each other's lives a little brighter. The prince seemed very happy to have close friends with him at all times. Sam and Cas grew close with time, which pleased Dean deeply, he always suspected they would get along just fine if they met. Dean and Cas were just as inseparable as they had been back at school, spending time in comfortable silence when they travelled (which was constantly), stealing desserts from the palace's kitchen at night from time to time, taking long walks on the gardens at night. The country was recovering well from the war, the economy was blooming, Cas was busy with work but he seemed to enjoy doing his part... Everything seemed to be working out rather well...

Until it wasn't.

There’s a tangible tense atmosphere everywhere; in the palace, in the city, in the country. Dean is nervous, following Castiel everywhere he goes, not trusting anybody. People are angry, stakes are running high. After undeniable proof that the prince Lucifer fed information to the country they had been at war with, information that cost the lives of so many people including his older brother Michael, hell broke loose. People wanted his head, the military  _ demanded  _ it as proof of loyalty, so the King had no option but to accept. It was the first time in a long time that the King’s hand was all but forced by public demand, that he had no other choice but to give up his dear son. 

After that, the King fell deeply ill and though it hasn’t been announced yet, Dean found out through Castiel that the King will most likely abdicate, which means Gabriel would be the next in line to the throne.  _ Gabriel _ ! Dean wants to laugh at the thought of Gabriel becoming a King. Out of all of the King’s children, he’s the least interested in the role: he despises the royal lifestyle, doesn’t like to take responsibilities, let alone be the face of an entire country. Castiel doesn’t know and Dean didn’t want to trouble him with the rumours, but some say Gabriel will abdicate as well. If he does, Castiel would become King… Castiel, who is under suspicion of sympathising with the enemy during the war. Castiel, who is under extensive investigation himself at the moment, in case he too betrayed his people. Dean knows they won’t find anything, Cas is as loyal as it gets to his country, but still there’s an air of uncertainty around them, there’s people who look at Cas like they’re wondering if there’ll find dirt on him. 

Dean hates the whole situation, hates the mistrust he sees in the generals eyes when they come for the regular meetings that have been holding place at the palace. he doesn’t trust them, doesn’t trust anybody who isn’t openly and proudly loyal to the prince. With the way the military men took Lucifer away, like they were out to get blood for vengeance, Dean’s not sure they don’t plan the same for Cas if they find the smallest misunderstanding that could cause them to think he’s a traitor. Nobody but Sam knows but they’ve got a plan in case the military tries to come for Castiel next, to get the prince out of the palace and out of the country safely until the peace is restored and he’s safe again. Dean will fight tooth and nails against anyone who tries to hurt a single lock of the prince’s hair.

At the moment Sam and Dean wait in along other members of the Royal Guard in a room adjacent to the one where the King, his two remaining sons and their advisers are having a meeting. An important one, apparently, by the length of it and the raised voices that can be heard, although muffled, through the thick door that separates them. 

Sam and Dean wait by the window, mostly quiet, concerned. Through the window they see Eileen walking around with Jack in the gardens, which are now Dean’s favourite spot on the grounds; they’re quiet and offer more privacy and little Jack loves the outdoors.

Dean wonders what will happen to Jack, it hasn’t been decided yet; will he stay with his family in the palace or will he be sent away with his grandparents from his mother’s side? Dean would hate to see him go, he is rather fond on the 2 years old son of Lucifer, who lost his mother at birth. Sam is too but he’s even more fond of Eileen, Jack’s caretaker. Dean wonders what would happen to them if they left. Would Eileen get fired, would they not see her anymore? With so many people thirsty for vengeance disguised as justice, would Jack be safe without the Royal Guard’s protection?

The doors to the meeting room suddenly burst open and Castiel strides across the room towards him. He barely looks like himself. Dean, who knows him well, knows he’s on the verge of exploding, probably from panic. 

“I need to talk to you for a second,” he orders Dean in a low, serious voice then marches out the room. 

Dean shares a last worried look with his brother, then hurries to follow the prince. Cas advances fast through the corridor, then practically runs up the stairs and keeps going. It’s like he won’t stop, like he doesn’t want to, so Dean catches up to him, grabs him by the wrist and forces him to turn around.

“Jesus, Cas, will you stop already? Come here.”

Dragging him by the wrist, Dean takes him to the nearest empty room and closes the door behind him. Cas leans against a wall, biting his nails nervously. Dean walks towards him, grabs the prince’s hands and searches his eyes for whatever is wrong.

“Cas, talk to me, what’s the matter, what did they say?”

Tears gather in Castiel’s eyes, Dean fears the worst. Cas has trouble getting the words out, but finally the words come out.

“I’m going to be King. It’s been decided.”

Dean can’t help but chuckle nervously. The fear dissolves within him, the weight lifts off his shoulders. They wouldn’t allow him to become King if they didn’t trust him.

“Cas, that’s wonderful! That means you’re off the hook!”

The chances of Cas becoming King were always slim, at least that what they thought when they were younger. Still, Castiel was a devoted monarch. He studied his country thoroughly, he studied the law, the people, their needs, their weaknesses and strengths. He made changes where he could, defending the common people’s interest. It wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world to become King, he was a kind person and a fine prince. Dean firmly believed he’d be a good ruler, far better than Lucifer could have ever been.

But Cas, far from excited, shakes his head and pulls his hands away.

“Not exactly,” he says quietly. “You know the situation has been tense. Very tense. People are really angry and nervous. Everyone agrees I am a better option for the Crown that Gabriel, even he does, but they want me to… to  _ prove _ my loyalty and to unify the Crown and the military again, to reaffirm our alliance. As if we weren’t innately a part of each other, for God’s sake!”

Dean frowns, somewhat confused. “Okay… What does that mean, exactly? Are they making a military man out of you?”

“It means they want me to marry, Dean. To marry someone in the military.”

All of a sudden, Dean becomes lightheaded. He tries to keep his expression in place but he can practically feel himself going pale. They both hold their breaths, both utterly distressed for two very different reasons.

This is it, this is the moment Dean had been dreading his entire life. Castiel is getting married and Dean will have a front row seat to the show. His contract doesn’t end until one more year and in the meantime he’s going to have to watch Cas go through an arranged marriage with some fucker, someone who probably doesn’t even deserve, doesn’t even know him—

“I know I have no right to ask,” Castiel starts. Dean’s never heard him sound so desperate before, “I know it’s more than any friend should ever ask for, but this is my best option, this is  _ my _ only option— anything else will be decided  _ for _ me. Dean, I want  _ you _ to marry me.”

The proposal washes over Dean like a bucket of ice cold water. It’s simultaneously amazing and terrible. It’s his wildest dream becoming true but twisted into a nightmare. It’s  _ fake _ , completely fake, lacking all the love, hope and excitement that it should have. It’s an arrangement, a lie that will trap him in the vicious circle of torture he got himself into for the rest of his life. It’s too much, it’s a life sentence for his poor, stubborn heart.

“Cas, you can’t really be asking me that…”

Dean walks backwards slowly until he hits a desk.

“I know. Dean, I  _ know _ it’s horrible of me to ask this. I know you have something going on with Lisa—”

Dean frowns for a moment, as if he had completely forgotten who Lisa was. The head chef of the palace’s kitchen, a cute brunette Dean had fooled around with a few times, means nothing to him, absolutely nothing compared to Castiel. The suggestion that she even matters in this equation almost makes him laugh. His hesitation is not about her at all, he hadn’t even stopped to consider that in the first place.

“—but we— we’re best friends, we could— well, at least we care about each other, it wouldn’t be the worst marriage. I trust you with my life and with all my secrets and I swear I will respect your opinion as a consort, you wouldn’t just be a pawn. And people know you, you’re a war hero and liked by so many. Hell, the media loves you, they’re always talking about  _ that handsome guard _ .” He tries to laugh but fails. “And your family— you all have strong ties to the military, your family has served the country for generations. Together we can unify the Crown and the military, we will bring stability.”

His mouth dry, Dean has nothing to reply. Castiel seems to have thought this through for real, this is not a joke. His reasons for wanting to marry Dean make sense under the circumstances but Dean doesn’t want to marry him and the reason why is ironic; it’s because he loves the prince that he doesn’t want to go through with it, because he wants it to be real, he would have wanted their union to really mean something to each other instead of doing it purely for politically strategic reasons. It breaks his heart more to live a lie than to not have anything from Cas at all.

At the same time, if he declines, Castiel will still marry someone else. He’ll be forced into a  _ truly _ loveless marriage. Perhaps they’re not lovers, but there is definitely affection of some kind between them and at least Dean would know Cas is with someone who loves him and is fiercely loyal to him and no one or nothing else but him. At least he could protect Cas like this, although it would cost him so much.

A whirlwind of emotions stir in his gut. Breathing with difficulty, Dean loosens his tie.

“Dean…” Cas whispers, “I’m begging you. I promise—, no, I  _ swear _ on my soul I’ll be a good husband to you.”

“That’s not what troubles me, Cas.”

“What is it, then?”

Dean rests his hands on the desk for stability, fingernails digging into the wood. Castiel waits for an answer and Dean wonders if he should tell him. Would Castiel not ask Dean to marry him if he knew he’d be taking advantage of what Dean feels for him? 

_ I love you,  _ he screams in his head wishing he could say it out loud,  _ and it kills me that you don’t. _

Again he’s torn between two bad decisions with Castiel waiting impatiently for an answer.

After a few seconds of getting no answer, Castiel sighs, defeated, and walks towards the door dragging his feet.

“It’s okay. I understand, Dean. I’m sorry I put you in this position.”

Dean jumps to stop him before he walks out the door, closing the door abruptly. “Jesus Christ, just—” he takes a deep, calming breath and steadies himself. “Just give me a few minutes, alright? I’ll think about it. Just give me a few more minutes. Stay here, I’ll be right back.”

Dean squeezes his arms, trying to comfort Castiel who looks terribly tired and upset, then leaves him alone in the room as he hurries down the hall to a bathroom. He locks himself in, takes his tie off all the way and opens the first few buttons of his shirt. He washes his face with cold water and sits on the edge of a bathtub as he tries to calm down. Thinking back on his time on the army he tries to breathing exercises he used to be able to sleep. Clearing his mind, steadying his breathing, slowly he calm down.

_ Let’s be methodical about this,  _ he thinks.  _ Pros and cons, reasons to do this and reason not to do this. _

_ Pro: marrying Cas. This is all I’ve ever wanted. Literally. _

_ Con: it’s fake, he doesn’t love me, he just needs me, my military background. He doesn’t love me. _

_ Pro: but at least he loves me enough as a friend that I’m the first person he asks. He knows we could have some sort of happiness… _

_ Con: but it’d be torture. I would have to forever give up any hopes of moving on and forming a family of my own. Give up my chances of being loved. _

_ Pro: I’m a selfish piece of shit for even thinking this, but at least Cas wouldn’t marry anyone else. He’d be mine, all mine.  _

_ Con: I’d be a fucking royal. All eyes on me, for the rest of my life. My life wouldn’t be my own anymore. _

_ Pro: but I’d bring stability to my country, I’d be able to keep Cas safe and avoid conflicts. _

_ Pro: I’d get to kiss him, at least a few times in public, for show, but still. Fuck, I’d get to kiss him. _

Dean licks his lips, heart quickening just thinking about kissing the prince’s lips.

_ Pro: I could make him happy. I know I could. I’d be devoted to him like no one else ever could. I would support him, he would never be alone, someone would always have his back. I could protect him. I love him. _

Maybe it’s his destiny, Dean begins to suspect. Everything seems to have led him to this moment. Maybe he’s not made for some some big romance but to support what he knows will be an amazing King. That’s not a half bad fate. Would it be so terrible to love Cas forever? He’s done it for so long, he can’t remember what it’s like  _ not to _ care for him. To love Cas hurts sometimes but he can’t deny it has also brought him happiness and a lot of good memories.

Having listed more pros than cons, Dean makes up his mind to say yes and once he reaches the decision he tries to sell it to himself, to be excited about it. It’s not hard to actually look forwards to it when everyone around them seem to avidly support their marriage. The media does a great job at selling the story to the public, making up rumours that they have actually been in love for years which is only  _ half _ wrong. They somehow make a romantic story out of all the mess, distracting the people away from their suspicions about Castiel with information about his long relationship with Dean and the upcoming wedding. The heads of the military are pleased with Cas marrying a war hero with strong ties to the service and the prince and his family are relieved to have someone trustworthy joining their ranks. Dean’s father could not be prouder that his son is marrying the future King and his mother, after Dean assures her that he is more than okay with the arrangement, becomes very excited about the wedding. Sam is the only one who seems worried about him and in a heated discussion with Dean he brings it up, but Dean sticks to his choice, even defends it, eager to reach the day when he ties the knot with the prince.

When the day comes, it’s a massive event, a celebration that all the country joins, but Dean doesn’t remember the decoration, the big list of important guests, the food, the public, the cameras, the party, the nerves that made his stomach twist… All he remembers is kissing Cas at the altar for the first time, how he felt he could fly, how it was as perfect as he always dreamed it would be. It was rather sweet, really, slow, frozen in time, and gentle. Then they held hands standing at the church's entrance after the ceremony, Cas rubbing circles over Dean's skin to comfort him as the cameras blinded them with flashes and the public cheered for them. They smiled at each other, nervously but not without some sort of sincere affection, and they kissed again. Dean felt happy and he felt sad, because it was wonderful but it was a lie.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> UP NEXT:  
> Chapter 4: When they slept together for the first time.


	4. When they slept together for the first time.

_ A year and a couple of months later. _

Peace and prosperity rule the country, and love is in the air. Sam and Eileen tie the knot in a beautiful spring day and even more beautiful wedding. It’s a sweet, rather private celebration in a distant location owned by the Crown that Castiel allowed them to use for the sake of making the security surveillance easier since the King and his husband would be attending.

They took a small vacation for the occasion and they’ve been spending days with relatives and Sam and Eileen’s friends in preparation for the big day. That meant a lot of acting and pretending the Castiel and Dean’s marriage is happy and loving, it means holding Castiel’s hand and kissing him from time to time and smiling a lot. It sounds wonderful in theory, but Dean’s about to explode. It’s easier to pretend when he doesn’t have Cas constantly glued by his side than when he does. It’s easier when the King is busy and distracted and isn’t smiling at him all day long, looking gorgeous and happy all the time, as if they are really in their own fairy tale, in love with each other. Cas is such a good actor, sometimes it screws with Dean’s head.

Dean’s tired, emotionally tired of pretending to be fake happy in front of so many people for so many days on a row. It’s exhausting. They’ve been having a heavy social life for too long in a row and he needs a break from it. Dean would much rather be back on the road, back to work. He’s tense, wearing thin. It sounds like he’s bitching for a really tiny problem, but fuck, it messes with him to be so close to Cas for so long and yet so far, to feel his body next to him, his muscles under Dean’s fingers, his warmth, and never do anything about it. He wants to angry fuck someone but he’d never dare risk another soul finding out he’s cheating on his husband so he’s frustrated to the point of madness. A vacation from his vacation, that’s what he needs. He needs to sit alone for two hours straight staring at a wall without talking to anyone, in complete silence. 

All day he’s been supportive and useful, wearing his most winning smile. He was there for Sammy (who didn’t really need any support, he could not wait to marry Eileen) and he was there at the wedding to play his part as the noble prince consort —it’s still incredibly weird to think himself a prince, sometimes he still frowns confused when people refer to him as ‘your royal highness’ before he remembers that’s him now. They’re done with dinner, heard all the speeches, they’ve danced, posed for the photos, cut the cake. Dean’s talked to the guests, he’s stood by as  _ Castiel _ spoke to the guests (and of course abso-fucking-lutely  _ everyone _ wanted to speak to the King), he tried to join in at times but honestly if Cas touches him again he might implode, so when an almost four years old sleepy Jack rubs his eyes with the back of his hand and starts falling asleep on his arms, Dean grabs his chance to excuse himself and head back to the main building where their bedrooms are.

Jack puts his arms around Dean’s neck, resting his little head on the other’s shoulder as they head back in together. As Dean leaves the party behind with that little kid he loves like his own, he starts feeling like he can breathe again. The little prince, Cas’ heir, has a calming effect on Dean. As long as Dean has someone to protect, he finds purpose in his life, and Cas might not need him to do more than stand by him and be loyal but Jack needs love, guidance and, if only from time to time, an accomplice to do some unroyal shenanigans.

The building is practically deserted, everyone’s still back at the party having a good time. It’s not like Dean’s not happy for his brother, the night was truly beautiful and it was great to see his family, but he needs a moment to recharge, he needs some privacy to gather his thoughts.

Jack asks him to stay until he falls asleep and Dean complies with pleasure. He combs his fingers through the boy’s thin blond hair as he sits on the floor, relaxing in the privacy on their tender moment. He rests the head on the brick wall and closes his eyes, wishing he could go to sleep himself. He should probably make one more appearance before turning in, at least let Cas know he’s going to bed. 

When the little prince falls asleep, Dean goes to his room next. He just wants a few more minutes to himself before rejoining the crowd, he wants to recharge in solitude and silence. He jumps into bed, laying on his stomach with his eyes closed for a few minutes, listening to the relentless party going outside. 

His phone buzzes on his pocket and he turns on the bed, sitting up to rest his back on the headboard as he takes his phone out. It’s a text from Benny, asking him where he escaped to. He texts back, only partially lying when he says he took Jack upstairs to put him to bed, evading to mention he’s pseudo hiding now.

He takes five minutes to check the news online. Being up to date with politics and the economy and other things that don’t really interest him is part of being a prince consort. He has to have opinions, he has to advise the King but truth be told he doesn’t care much. Dean’s not proud, he wouldn’t have a problem leaning back and being just the pretty husband by Castiel’s side but they look stronger as a team so Dean makes an effort, as always, to be all Cas needs.

Then Dean decides to stop pretending he doesn’t know what he  _ really _ needs and changes from checking the news to his favourite porn website. He’s so tense his shoulders are stiff and painful. An orgasm won’t fix anything but surely it’ll help somewhat. Browsing through the videos, he finds one he rather like and if one of the actors looks like his husband, that’s just coincidence. Dean palms his slowly growing erection through his pants, teasing himself, but not for long, he doesn’t have the patience or the time to spare. With one hand he pulls his shirt out of his pants, unbuckles his belt and pulls his pants down enough to free his cock.

He sighs, mildly content but still full of sexual and emotional frustration, and starts eagerly stroking himself. Truth be told, Dean doesn’t even need to pay much attention to what is happening in the movie, he has images in his own head he’s been playing on repeat during this forced vacations. God, the things that go through his mind when he feels Castiel’s body next to him, when they’re up and close pretending to be what Dean wishes they were… Cas is all the inspiration Dean needs to jack off, he has imagined entire porn movies starring his husband for the longest time.

Closing his eyes and resting his head back on the wall, he pumps himself fast, ever movement getting him closer and closer to a way too fast but too needed orgasm. He hates doing it like this, in a hurry and in secret, but it’s the way it usually goes and he’ll take what he can. After of years of war, he’s used to getting off in less than ideal settings.

Suddenly the door to his room opens and in comes Castiel as Dean jumps off his skin and quickly grabs a pillow to cover his crotch.

“Hey, Dean, I was— oh, shit— I—”

Castiel looks away quickly, cheeks burning hot and mind too stunned to find the right words, stumbling on his own two feet as he shuts the door.

“Jesus, Cas! Don’t you knock!”

“No, not in my own bedroom, Dean! I was looking for you, Benny said you were up here! You were taking a bit long, I was just coming up to check on you.”

“Well, I’m fine!” Dean snaps a little roughly. “I just need five fucking minutes to be alone, okay?”

“Sure…” Cas mutters to himself, turning away, but he stays there, petrified with his hand on the handle.

Dean’s cock is begging for attention below the pillow, even though it’s going to be awkward as fuck finishing after this.

“Cas!” he fumes. “Come on, man!”

His husband doesn’t leave though. Still keeping his eyes away from Dean, rather shyly he asks, “but are you  _ sure _ you want to be alone?”

Dean's heart possibly skips a beat, his mind short circuits. 

“What?”

“I said—”

“I know what you said. What the hell’s that supposed to mean?”

“You know what I mean. You’re not the only one with needs. And we’re married, Dean. Might as well… might as well make the best of it, right?”

_ Oh, God, it’s happening. _

His heart’s beating faster than it has in years, his cock is full and interested, the blood rushing down furiously and overcoming rational thought. He knows why it’s be a terrible idea to sleep with Cas, to keep blurring the lines between them, but in that moment he cannot listen to reason, cannot even form a coherent thought other than all the different ways he’d love to fuck Cas if he’s being offered the possibility. What he wouldn’t give to not just feel someone else’s body under him after over an year but Castiel’s of all people!

Would it be that bad, anyway? Cas is right, they’re married, they’re in this together probably forever. Dean will sure as hell never ask him for the divorce. It’s not exactly like he’s taking  _ advantage _ of Castiel, they’d both be getting something good out of it and if anything Cas is the one who asked Dean to marry him out of convenience, not out of love. If this is what their marriage is going to be, a long friendly of two people who care for each other and fuck each other, would it be _that_ bad? At least he’s not stuck in an entirely loveless marriage, at least some of his needs would be satisfied. Cas cares for him, trusts him enough to marry him, and now wants to fuck him. Is it that wrong for Dean to take what he can even if it’s not  _ exactly  _ what he wants?

Castiel knows him enough to interpret his silence. If Dean wanted him to leave, he would have said so by now. He proceeds with caution, giving Dean enough time to tell him to get the fuck out if he really wishes that. He turns around and looks at him dead in the eyes, untying his tie in a slow and sensual way that is worthy of a classy porn movie. Dean watches, transfixed, his brain not really catching up with reality. He feels like he's dreaming but this is happening, it’s really happening, Cas is taking his clothes off willingly in front of him and Dean's so amazed by the turn of events he can’t do anything but watch his husband slowly undress and walk towards him. 

The King takes his suit jacket off, drops it on the floor carelessly, then his shirt follows. Dean shamelessly ogles him, his stomach, chest, those damn v lines on his hips that have Dean’s mouth watering. It’s not like he’s  _ never  _ seen Castiel shirtless before but never before has he allowed himself to actually linger and  _ watch _ .

When Castiel drops his pants, Dean’s lips actually part and he unknowingly presses the pillow into his crotch, seeking friction, pleasure. Castiel smiles at him nervously, palming himself through his briefs before he finally takes them off.  _ This  _ Dean has never seen before and he’s not at all disappointed by the sight. Cas is gorgeous and absolutely perfect, Dean’s imagination had never done him enough justice. In that moment, with his husband crawling up the bed and removing the pillow from his hand, Dean can’t bring himself to regret a single thing that led him to this moment.

“Breathe,” Cas orders him with a cheeky grin before he leans to slowly kiss Dean’s erection.

Dean’s eyes flutter closed and he gasps ever so slightly, but he forces himself to keep his eyes open and watch. He’d be damned if he misses Castiel going down on him. The King is gentle with him but enthusiastic, massaging his testicles as he licks and kisses his length.

“Fuck,” Dean shudders, a trembling hand coming up to comb through Castiel’s dark hair. “Cas, come here.”

As much as he would  _ love _ for Cas to continue and show Dean what he’s really capable of, the prince thinks he might explode if he doesn’t touch Castiel right about there and then, immediately. 

“Are you giving your King an order?” the other asks playfully, a shit eating grin pulling at the corner of his lips as he crawls up to be directly above Dean.

“Damn right I am.”

Dean pulls his head down and meets him halfway for a hungry kiss, exploring his mouth like he had never allowed himself to do before. Until now they’d shared carefully staged kisses, polite displays of affection that were appropriate for the public to see. Now Dean was allow to do what he wanted and he was planning on discovering every inch of Cas’ body.

Cas doesn’t stay behind, lowering himself to press their bodies together, their cocks trapped together between their bodies. He rocks his hips, creating friction between them. Both of them moan into each other’s mouth. Dean’s hands roam all his body, feeling the naked muscles in Castiel’s arms, his back, then grabbing his nice, round ass. That ass! Dean’s been dreaming about it for  _ years _ !

Dean suddenly rolls them over, getting comfortable between Castiel’s legs.

“You rule out there, Cas, but in here I’m on top.”

His husband chuckles and leans in, stopping right before reaching Dean’s lips, and whispers, “prove it. Lube’s on the top drawer.”

He’s a second away from asking why Cas keeps lube on his drawer, but Dean imagines the reason and the words die in his throat. Eagerly, he reaches for the drawer and blindly looks for what he wants inside. Heart wildly beating against his chest, Dean applies some of it on a finger, reaches down between Cas’ legs and penetrates him easily. 

“I can take more than that,” Castiel tells him, voice rough with desire. “You don’t need to treat me gently. Show you what you’ve got.”

It’s hard not to, though. Castiel is strong, both in his body and mind, but Dean’s always tried to protect him. It’s hard for him to be rough, to test his husband’s limits, but when he pushes two fingers, then three in, and sees Cas throw his head back and moan in pleasure and not pain Dean realises he shouldn’t be afraid, this  _ is _ what his friend wants. And maybe nobody’s ever given it to him, maybe nobody ever before dared treat the royal like their needy bottom. He gets drunk with power with that thought; he could be the first and only one to ever to be comfortable enough with Cas to give him what he wants, to make him someone’s bitch for one night.

So Dean gives in to it. He captures Castiel’s lips again, rejoicing as Cas breathes unevenly into his mouth while Dean fingers him fast and roughly. Their tongues play with each other, Cas hands explores Dean’s both underneath his shirt. Dean could go on forever just like this but Castiel asks for more and when he wants something Dean’s answer is always yes.

He kneels and lubricates properly, feeling like he’s on the top of the world as Castiel looks at him with hungry eyes. This is the best he’s ever felt, the most desired, and whatever happens after tonight between them he’s never going to forget it.

He barely gives Cas any time to prepare before he slides into him, slow enough not to hurt him but pushing against whatever resistance Castiel’s body provides. As Dean fills him up, Cas can’t keep the rhythm of their kissing but that’s okay, Dean watches him come undone under his touch. It gives him almost as much pleasure as the tight warmth he feels around his cock. He buries himself balls deep inside of Cas, hips digging into the King’s ass as he bottoms out. Castiel holds him close, nails digging into Dean’s back, his breath coming in short gasps.

It feels amazing, it’s overwhelming. Castiel is so beautiful, so sensual, it’s the most perfect thing Dean’s ever seen.

Dean gently nudges the other’s nose and whispers against his parted lips, “you okay?”

Castiel gives him a quick nod. “Are you going to show me what you’ve got or not?” he teases Dean, blue eyes finding green ones. “We don’t have a lot of time.”

“You want it rough?”

One nod of consent is all Dean needs to proceed. He grabs the back of Castiel’s knees and pushes them closer to his chest, then starts fucking in and out of him fast and roughly. They don’t have a lot of time, it’s true, anyone will be wondering where they are and Dean will be damned if someone cuts this short. He needs to cum, he  _ has _ to or he’ll go mad, and he’s desperate to please Castiel and impress him to have him coming back for more again.

Dean fucks him so hard the old bed starts squeaking and banging against the wall. He’s possessed, giving Cas all he has, practically knocking the air out of him but his love seems to enjoy every bit of it, his face of pleasure mixed with a satisfied smile.

“Fuck, yeah, don’t stop,” Cas mutters under his breath, and it’s one of the first times in Dean’s entire life that he’d heard the royal curse.

Cas grasps a hand around himself and jacks himself off fast to the rhythm of Dean’s movements, his other hand pushing against the headboard to steady himself. Dean watches fascinated, fighting as his eyes want to flutter close when his orgasm starts building inside him. He bites his bottom lip so hard he almost draws blood and relentlessly slams into Cas, over and over again, feeling every inch, living for every dirty sound he elicits from Castiel.

A noise like wood breaking rumbles below them and the bed shakes. They look at each other for a moment with puzzled looks, but neither can bring themselves to care enough to stop. They’re both close to that sweet bliss they need and nothing’s going to stop them.

Dean finally feels the white hot explosion of very much needed release from the tip of his toes which curl in one themselves to his back and all the way up to his brain. He continues fucking Cas through it, unable to let go so fast, so easily, until he feels his second orgasm following just seconds after the first. He slams deep into Cas and says there, his cock shooting string and string of cum inside his lover who with a silent cry cums in his own hand. 

They lay together in that position for a moment, both of them catching their breaths as Cas runs his fingers through Dean’s hair. It’s a sweet display of affection that feels so honest, it screws with his head. It’s almost romantic, if Dean lets himself be fooled. But even despite his best efforts, he’s hopeful that Cas might feel the same, that maybe after a year of marriage he’ll have some new developed feelings for him. With that hope comes the urge to come clean and finally say the things he’s dreamed about saying more times that he can count...

“That was amazing,” Castiel sighs contently into his ear.

Dean nods in agreement but doesn’t say a word. He lets the moment last, lets himself get lost in Castiel’s aftercare. Nose buried in Cas’ neck, he breathes in and gets lost in all Cas. His only regret is that he’s not naked as well so he could feel every inch of his lover’s skin against him.  _ Next time _ , he tells himself,  _ next time for sure. _

“I hope this doesn’t make things weird,” Cas whispers as he nudges Dean’s cheek with his nose, asking for his attention. Dean turns to look at him and his heart twists in pain and love when he’s met with Castiel’s beautiful smile. The King must see something in his eyes because something changes in his relaxed features, a shadow of concern flashes on his eyes. “What?”

“Nothing. I just…” Dean looks away and lifts himself on one arm. His heart feels like it’s going to explode with the need to tell Cas how he feels. “Cas, I—”

The door to their bedroom opens and two maids come in holding new sheets and towels. One of them gasps in horror as she realises that the room is  _ not _ empty as expected and stops dead in her tracks while Dean tries his best to cover as much of Cas as possible. The other maid runs into her, eyes wide like the moon in shock and cheeks burning hot red. They both start apologising over and over again as they scramble to leave the room in a hurry, dropping the towels and sheets on the floor as they leave.

As soon as the young women are out of the room, Castiel bursts out laughing. The mood completely ruined, Dean slides out of his husband feeling rather awkward and covers himself up. Cas, in the other hand, seems completely comfortable being naked in front of him.

“Just our luck!” Castiel chuckles. “The  _ one _ time we sleep together! I feel bad for them, they must think they’re in so much trouble.”

“I don’t know, man, I think one of them kinda liked it.”

Cas throws his head back and laughs even harder. Dean looks at him from the corner of his eye, smiling to himself. His husband looks so goddamn good without clothes on, Dean might just offer going for a second round right there and then, but again the bed does a weird threatening noise as the move around so they decide it’s time to join the party again.

It turns out they broke the bed, which is practically a relic, and the word of that and the maids walking in on them gets out. The media goes to town with the news but contrary to what Castiel’s PR agents fear, the gossip seems to speak in favour of them instead of against; after all, everyone likes thinking the King and his consort are passionately in love, so much they sneak around to fuck and do so enthusiastically enough to break a bed. Dean’s embarrassed, Castiel finds it hilarious. 

The bottom line is Castiel can’t get enough of it once they start doing it, it’s like sex is his way to channel all his stress and frustrations and Dean’s weak heart cannot say no; the sex is too good and the aftercare is even better. Everyone seems to think they’re madly in love, constantly looking for a private moment to pull each other’s clothes off, and little by little Dean starts to believe it too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> UP NEXT:  
> When Castiel thought Dean was cheating.


	5. When Castiel thought Dean was cheating.

_Several months later_

Things were going well, _really_ well, abnormally so at least in comparison to the rest of Dean’s life which should have been the first warning sign but he was so busy enjoying it he never stopped to worry. After Sam’s wedding, Cas and Dean broke the barriers between them, or at least some of them, and it became normal for them to often have sex and go to bed with their limbs tangled under the sheets instead of keeping a respectable distance between them like they used to. Dean wants Cas so badly he can barely keep his hands to himself now that he knows he is allowed to touch. Sexually he’s profoundly satisfied. Emotionally though? He’s terribly confused. Every time they fuck and Castiel lingers by his side afterwards, even holds him, a fire in Dean’s heart lights up; _hope_ . He’s suspicious and even more so hopeful that if Cas doesn’t have feelings for him already, he can develop them with time if they continue like this. It would make sense for him to fall in love with his husband, after all, and Dean’s not one to compliment himself what with his constant self-loading, but he’s got some lovable qualities and he’s always been nothing but kind and loyal to his King. He want be loved by Castiel so much he’s kind of starting to believe that maybe, just _maybe_ , he can be.

But then things start going _not_ so well, over night. He wakes up on a Thursday, happy and pretty well rested for his usual standards, to find his husband _not_ so happy having breakfast with Charlie, the head of his PR team. When he comes into the room, Castiel lifts his head and gives him a severe look —of anger, resentment, frustration, Dean’s not sure but he knows it’s something bad— that throws Dean off his rhythm. He pauses for a moment, going back days, weeks, _years!_ , wondering what he could have done to piss off Cas, but nothing comes to mind.

“What? Good morning to you too. Aren’t you a ray of sunshine…” he mutters, openly displeased by the unwelcoming stare, as he takes a seat on the table, eyeing his best friend with confusion.

As he helps himself with some toasts and scrambled eggs, Charlie passes him that day’s paper. 

“Dean, you should see this.”

Dean puts his fork down and grabs the paper, an eyebrow raised questioningly but he doesn’t need to say anything, it’s pretty evident what’s going on when he sees the headlines.

_Royal betrayal? Prince Dean may have a heir of his own._

In the cover there are two pictures, one of himself and Cas with a dramatically torn line between them, and another of none other but Lisa walking down the street with a small toddler on her arms. Dean quickly reads the article that is full of conveniently confidential informants who swear that before getting married the prince consort had an affair with the ex chef of the palace who now has a baby but no baby daddy by her side. Although they’re not entirely wrong about them having an affair in the past, the article hints that the chef was let go from her position by Dean’s influence to cover up their affair when he got engaged to the King and argues that the baby looks quite a lot like Dean, green eyes and all. It’s ridiculous, absolutely ridiculous; Lisa _quit_ a few weeks before he even got engaged but then there’s the matter of the kid. Judging by the kid’s age and the last time they had sex, it _could_ be Dean’s, which leaves him speechless for a second, lost in thought as he does the math in his head. He’s smart enough, however, to keep his expression in check as he feels Castiel’s watchful eyes on his face.

When he looks up, Charlie’s waiting for him to say something while Cas is decidedly avoiding meeting his eyes. Dean’s not sure what to say.

“Well, obviously it’s a lie,” he states a bit too defensively.

“Dean, I know it’s not _all_ a lie,” Charlie counters softly, carefully, knowing full well that despite their friendship with the two of them Dean’s still a royal now and the _King_ is in the room. “I mean, the three of us know Lisa and you had a something something so… I mean, are you _sure_ it’s not yours?”

“Of course it’s not!” he protests, although truthfully his heart is agitated with doubt. _Could_ it be his? “She would have told me!”

“I’m not sure how old the kid is but her pregnancy would have overlapped with your engagement… Maybe she didn’t want to tell you, you know? To avoid _this_ drama.”

“She wouldn’t do that, she would have told me, I’m sure, Charlie.”

“A 100% sure?”

“I—” 

He wants to say _of course!_ , he wants to protests and defend himself as his friend and his husband look at him like he’s guilty as charged, but the words die in the lump of his throat. He sets his jaw, appetite now lost, and Cas looks away. Dean understands why he could be upset, because it’s not fun to have the country’s eyes on him and his marriage, because they need to present an image of unity and loyalty, but he doesn’t know why Castiel looks so damn _betrayed_ . He knew of Lisa before they got married and he knows the truth, he knows their union is a lie, one _he_ got Dean into, so he has no right at all to be mad for what Dean did or did not do in the past.

Charlie gives him a sympathetic smile and reaches for his hand but Dean jumps up and strides towards the window. He crosses his arms, angrily staring down at the gardens, cursing the media and their hunger for drama, cursing every single person who feeds into, who reads the lies and talks about it, who plots against them and their happiness.

“Can I sue them for defamation or something?”

“You can try,” Charlie shrugs, helping herself to a piece of toast, “but I’m afraid it could do more harm than good. I mean, your relationship with Lisa would inevitably come to light and I strongly advise against that right now. We’ve let the media and the people believe you and Cas were in love way before your engagement, it would damage your image to expose that lie.”

Dean shakes his head and bites his lip so hard he almost draws blood. He hates being dragged into drama and the constant spotlight he lives under.

“I cannot fucking believe this,” he whispers, so low the other two can barely hear him. Castiel won’t even look his way. “Why do we constantly need to prove our loyalty? I gave everything for this life, _everything_ , and it’s never enough.”

“We could make a statement. We _should_ make a statement,” Charlie points out, elbowing Cas after he doesn’t anything for a few seconds. “Dean should speak with you next to him… trying to look a tad less gloomy, huh, Cas?”

But Castiel shakes his head and stands slowly, hands smoothing the front of his shirt, eyes decidedly still avoiding Dean which in the end is what hurts his husband the most. Even if Dean does have a kid he didn’t know about, it’s not his fault and he certainly does not deserve to get the cold treatment from Cas, not after everything Dean has done for him.

“No, I want the kid tested,” he states resolutely. 

Charlie snorts but the sound dies immediately when Cas’ stern eyes land on her. He rarely ever has this air about him, like that of a _real_ royal, like someone who can and _will_ tell you want to do and when and you can’t say no to him.

“You can’t be serious... I mean, you can’t _force_ her to test her child if she doesn't want to.”

“I will make a convincing request.”

“Cas, that’s fucking rude, man,” Dean defies him. “The kid’s not mine, relax!”

“I want it in paper,” Cas growls back, grabbing the paper and letting it fall angrily on the table. “I want the evidence. Can you look at me in the eyes and tell me you are 100% sure that kid’s not yours? Would you bet your life— no, wait, you’ve always been on a path of self destruction, so would you bet _my_ life on it?”

Dean exhales sharply, shoulders rolling back as he tries to contain himself. “I wouldn’t bet your life on anything, Cas, and you know that,” he responds through gritted teeth. “You’ve always trusted me. Don’t let them divide us.”

Cas shakes his eyes and averts his eyes. A moment of silence goes between them, Charlie uncomfortably stares at her old piece of toast, trying to make herself invisible while Cas taps his fingers on the table.

“I want that test done,” he finally tells Charlie. Dean scoffs and turns away. “Get it done, Charlie.”

They don’t speak all day, don’t even cross paths. Dean stays on the opposite far end of the palace, hidden in the library. He barely eats all day, spends most of the time sulking in solitude. He avoids all calls except for Sam’s because he practically causes Dean’s phone to crash with incessant attempts to reach him. Sam, who knows everything about Dean, is really the only person he can talk to. His brother tries to calm him down and make him understands Castiel’s point of view, but Dean is offended if not downright hurt by his husband’s treatment. For once in his life he wishes Cas could get his head out of his butt and realise that if he feels lonely as a King, Dean feels that much more alienated as a made consort. He doesn’t belong there, not like Cas, and the royal life is hard enough on him without adding fighting with his one true ally on the mix. This marriage isn’t something he regrets because every day he spends by Castiel’s side is what Dean’s always asked for but it’s damn lonely when Cas casts him away. The building, full of rooms, pretty things and servants, has never felt like a home to him. He can’t fucking walk around in his pyjamas in peace, can’t throw a party with his friends, can’t fart in his fucking kitchen since there’s _always_ someone else there. Hell, he mostly doesn’t even cook anymore! Wherever Cas is though, is where Dean belongs. If only he knew that.

Even though he knows it’s unwise, he has an overwhelming urge to visit Lisa and not only check on her but ask her who the baby’s father is. Checking the news on his phone is enough to realise that’d be very unwise though; there are many new sites currently covering the story from outside her home which _rude_ , Dean thinks. He’s sort of used to it by now but he can’t imagine what Lisa must be going through with all those people waiting outside her house waiting for something to happen. The way the media describes Lisa is all but kind. She’s become a pariah, a homewrecker, a threat to the stability of the entire country and Dean can’t help but feel sorry for her. For old times sake, because he really liked her even though they were never in love, he wants to reach out and make sure she’s okay.

Charlie tries to persuade him to eat something for dinner but Dean doesn’t want to risk crossing paths with Cas. A secret, tiny part inside of him wants his husband to reach out first, to apologize and say he believes Dean when he says it’s not his kid, but the King doesn’t appear and Dean doesn’t go looking for him. He doesn’t go to bed either, not even when it’s past midnight, and at some point he just falls asleep in an uncomfortable position in a couch that is too small for him. He barely sleeps and wakes up every few hours, the pain in his neck keeping him up for the most part. Around 5.30 am he decides enough is enough. He doesn’t have her number anymore but he does know her address so before Cas has a chance to catch him, he is sneaking out —as much as he can what with having to always have guards on him when he leaves the palace and not being allowed to drive for the most part—. 

Around 6 am he arrives to Lisa’s and he’s happy to see the vultures with cameras are not yet there or have already left her house alone. He tells the guards to wait for him at the car and hurries to her door, only realising how fucking early and out of place his visit it when he’s already knocking on her door. He panics for a moment; he doesn’t even know if Lisa will want to see him, let alone show up uninvited on her doorstep, but it only takes her a few seconds to open the door which indicates she was already up. When she opens the door, far from being mad at him, a broad smile adorns her otherwise tired face.

“Dean!” she smiles but suddenly her expression changes into one of embarrassment as she catches herself. “Oh, I’m so sorry! I mean, your Royal Highness.”

She vows her head slightly in his presence and Dean all but cringes.

“God, please don’t call me that. I’m probably being rude but may I come in for a minute?” Dean looks around nervously, waiting for someone with a camera to just jump from behind a tree and take a picture of them together which would fire up the rumours that they’re, in fact, secret lovers. 

Lisa seems to understand his train of thoughtful perfectly fine without explanation as she moves aside and welcomes him in.

“Of course, come in. I’m so honoured by your presence,” she teases him, elbowing his old friend as Dean comes into the small house. A set of stairs lead to the second floor and to their left an archway leads them into a living room which is full of toys everywhere. Dean can’t help but try to take a peak, curiosity getting the best of him, looking for that little guy who is causing all kinds of trouble in the media. “It’s been a long time. How are you doing?”

Dean inhales slowly, raising an eyebrow and he gives her a knowing look. “I’m fine. You?”

Lisa shrugs, too tough to admit she’s been struggling but too honest with Dean to say she’s doing well.

“I’m really sorry about all of this,” Dean blurts out, looking down at his shoes. “Can’t be easy.”

“I could say the same to you,” she replies, reaching out for his hand. “People have been saying some really… unfair things about it.”

Dean nods to himself, squeezing her hand. He kind of wishes it was Castiel there comforting him instead though, not an old friend.

“Look, Lisa, I—”

“Dean, it’s not yours.”

At those words, a weight lifts off his shoulders. He visibly deflates and Lisa chuckles.

“I would have told you.”

“That’s what I said!” He looks up, relieved but still curious. “May I ask whose is he? Is there some asshole that needs their ass kicked?”

She laughs and shakes her head. “No, we have both agreed it’s better if he is out of the picture. He was the bad boy type that I liked back then but… I’m a mom now. I can’t afford someone like that around Ben.”

Dean nods, somewhat understanding what she means; however dramatic and painful it was for the Novaks to have Lucifer removed from their lives, Dean is glad Jack is growing away from his influence. He could have turned that beautifully kind child into something horribly different. 

“Do you want to meet him?” she asks all of a sudden and doesn’t wait for an answer before she’s leading Dean into the house. Ben is playing on a mat on the living room, surrounded by cubes of different colours, a wood train and cute stuffed animals. His hair sticks out in all directions and he’s still wearing his pyjamas, but the baby looks ready to be up and running, happy as he looks up at his mom. He stretches his chubby little arms towards her and she takes him in her arms, plating a big kiss on his cheek before passing the baby to Dean.

“Ben, this is Dean. Dean, this is Ben.”

“Hey, buddy. You’re an early bird, huh?”

Ben does have big green eyes, the kind that could have easily been worthy of Dean’s kid and for a moment he can’t help but wonder if she is being truthful with him. As if she could read his mind, she explains, “I had him tested as soon as he was born. I was quite sure it wasn’t yours, but you can’t never be too sure that your kid isn’t the current prince’s son, you know?… Those green eyes are really similar to yours, huh? Freaky.”

“You don’t say…”

“Anyway, I— it’s really embarrassing having to come out and explain my life to the public but I want you to know, Dean, I plan on making an announcement, you know? I already spoke to a lawyer and we’re going to let a newspaper publish the test with the father’s name removed, just to prove it’s not yours. I’m sorry if I caused any trouble but it’ll be over soon, okay?”

“Lisa,” he starts softly, putting an arm around her, “you haven’t caused any trouble. If anything, it’s my fault, I got you in trouble for association.”

“And Castiel?” she asks curiously. “How’s he doing?”

Dean chews the inside of his cheek, thinking about his response. He bounces the kid in his arms, trying to focus on the cute kid instead of yesterday’s fight with his husband.

“Trouble in paradise?”

“Let’s just say Castiel is being weird about all of this.”

“I can’t say that I blame him, Dean. It must be hard to be in his shoes, there’s so much pressure in his shoulders.”

“Yeah, okay, I get that, but I’m in the same position.”

She shrugs and averts her eyes. “At least you _chose_ that position. He never had a choice. You’re the only choice he ever made for himself.”

Dean laughs humorlessly and passes the baby back to her. “Oh, Lisa, if you only knew…”

“What, that it was probably an arranged marriage? Come on, Dean, everyone who lived at the palace for long enough at the time probably knows what really went down. Cas needed to get married, bring stability and whatever… But he chose _you_ Dean. He asked _you_ to marry him, didn’t he?”

Lisa bounces Ben in her arms, waiting for a response although she already knows the answer if that smirk of hers is anything for Dean to go by. Suddenly she rolls her eyes and turns his back on him, walking towards the kitchen.

“God, Dean, for a decorated sniper you can be so _blind_ sometimes,” she mumbles to herself.

He doesn’t stay much longer, just enough to share a cup of coffee and share quick summaries of what they’ve been up to since they last saw each other. When Dean gets back to the palace, he decides to spend some time with Jack in favour of hiding in the library. Jack, always happy to receive attention, plays for a long time in the garden with Dean. They play hide and seek, catch insects and find shapes in the clouds. It’s only close to lunch when a servant comes to request Dean’s presence.

“Your Highness, the King would like to see you in your bedroom.”

Dean knows the young servant enough to be able to read his expression. He looks slightly worried which can only mean something’s off again with Cas. Dean sighs and wonders what would happen if he doesn’t go but he knows it’s better if he just gets it over with and deals with whatever it is Castiel wants from him now. He leaves Jack with his caretaker and finds his way through the palace to where his husband is waiting. He expects to see Charlie there as well but she’s nowhere to be found. Cas is standing by a window, a troubled air about him. The TV’s on but muted. Dean’s about to ask something when he sees a picture of himself in the screen, of that same morning, standing outside Lisa’s place, and then by its side another photo of Lisa and Dean through the window, his arm around her as he holds the baby. He doesn’t need to hear what the they’re saying to know what they must surely be implying.

Waiting for Castiel’s reaction, Dean slowly turns towards Cas. The King seems to be biting back his tongue, vibrating with the need to say all he must be screaming in his mind.

“How could you have been so stupid?” he finally hisses so quietly Dean barely hears him.

The question leaves Dean speechless, cold.

“You should have known this would happen… Or maybe you didn’t care. You shouldn’t have been there, you should have been here, where you were needed, here with m— with… your family.”

Dean fights it impossible to contain himself. When he responds, his voice is twice as loud as he meant for it to come out, his tone more aggressive than defensive. 

“I was making sure my friend was alright!”

“You were reckless!” Cas counters, the level of his voice now matching Dean’s, anger clear on his face. “And selfish and impatient. Do you have _any_ idea how bad this looks?”

“It’ll blow over, Cas! Everything always does.”

“Things don’t just blow over! They get archived and resurface, every time something happens, they keep lists of every little mistake, every rumour, any sign of weakness. It’s like you don’t know your place at all!”

“I’m sorry I’m not the perfect trophy husband, Cas, but this is not my goddamn life, I don’t know how to be a fucking royal, okay?”

Cas blinks a few times, taken aback by those words for some reason, and he opens and closes his mouth a few times before he finally sits on the bed, staring at the ground.

“Is that why you went? Is _that_ your life, is it more important?”

Dean just stands there, confused, thinking of an answer. “What the hell is that even supposed to mean?”

“Is he yours?” Castiel asks, all the weight of his worries evidently clear in his blue eyes when he looks up. “Is that what you want, to go back to your simple life, to have a family of your own and—”

“Jesus, Cas, no, the kid’s not mine. She had him tested, she’s going to release the papers soon—”

“But did you want him to be?”

Cas’ eyes are almost accusatory, daring Dean to admit to his secret desires. But those are far from what Castiel expects them to be, apparently. He’s so far from the truth he’s going on the opposite direction with his wild guesses. There’s actual hurt in his eyes which brings back doubts in Dean; could Cas be in love with him? Could this be why he’s acting like… like a _jerk_? The thought overpowers any other thought in Dean’s mind.

Misinterpreting his silence, Cas gets to his feet and pushes past him. Dean grab his wrist and forces him to turn around.

“Cas, you’re being ridiculous,” Dean accuses.

“ _I’m_ being ridiculous?” Castiel laughs, yanking his hand away. “You sneak out of the palace at the break of dawn to see your ex behind my back and _I’m_ being ridiculous? Are there more secrets I need to know about? Have you done that in the past? Are you still into her?”

Dean can’t help but laugh. “ _What?_ You can’t be seriously asking me that.”

“I know you had to settle with me but I— it’s not going be like that between us, Dean. I won’t have you having some other woman on the side.”

“Are you suggesting I’m sleeping with her?”

“Well, are you?”

Castiel sets his jaw and looks at Dean straight in the eyes as if he was hoping to see the truth in his husband’s green eyes.

Dean blinks a few times, a slow realization coming to him. “Cas, are you… are you _jealous_?”

His husband scoffs and looks away, but Dean is _sure_ there’s a dim shade of red in his cheeks. “You made promises to me and to this country, Dean,” Cas responds, “so set your priorities straight.”

As Castiel turns his back on him one more time, Dean feels the impulse to go after him, push him against the wall and finish that fight with a kiss, not deafening silence. Castiel turns the doorknob and opens the door, one foot out the room already.

“Cas!” Dean calls urgently.

Castiel turns around and waits. Dean knows what he wants to say, what will bring all the fighting to an end. Cas needs to know that _he_ is Dean’s priority, always has been, always will be. He needs to know that Dean loves him and that even though the royal life is not his thing, life with Cas is. Cas must be aware by now that just as the Earth revolves around the Sun, Dean’s life revolves around his. 

Dean needs to say three simple words but he waits too long and Cas closes the door behind him as he leaves.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NEXT CHAPTER: When Dean got shot.


	6. When Dean gets shot.

Dean feels like a train hit him. His body is impossibly heavy and weak but he can’t remember doing anything particularly tiring. Actually, now that he thinks of it, he can’t remember much in general. His mind is in a total state of disorientation. It takes a terrible effort to put his thoughts together. He goes back in time and tries to work his way forwards. He remember arguing with Cas, _a lot_ , then twice as much silence between them, a constant barrier they can’t seem to get past of. He remembers that even after the whole things with Lisa and Ben went away after she presented the paternity test to the media, Cas seemed to keep his distance from him. Things just weren’t the same, but they had to pretend they were. He remembers the festival approaching, the parade, being in a carriage with Castiel. A cold shiver runs down his spine as he remembers a man with a gun pointing it at Cas, Dean jumping in front of him, then blood, so much blood Dean remembers his days on the war again. All the fear he felt back in that moment comes to him, when he felt— no, he _knew_ he was dying. He was afraid not because death scared him but because he choked on his blood as he tried to tell Castiel what he never had the courage to tell him. Cas, almost paralyzed in shock, repeating over and over again that he was going to be okay.

He opens his eyes slowly, finding it hard for a moment to focus them on anything. He’s seen his fair share of hospital rooms to know where he is. The smallest attempt to sit up has him groaning in deep pain.

“Don’t strain yourself,” a familiar voice tell him, a hand on his chest pushes him back down. “Rest, Dean.”

The prince turns his head to see his father in law, tired and old, sitting on an armchair next to his hospital bed. Truth be told, Dean’s surprised to see him there and it must show for the ex-King chuckles.

“I’m not who you expected?” he asks knowingly. “Well, I had to send Castiel and your brother back home to shower. They were starting to stink to place.”

Dean would laugh but he’s too drugged and can barely pull his lips into a smile. He opens his mouth to ask something but finds his throat dry and hoarse.

“Here, have some water. But just a small sip.” 

The Duke brings a small glass to his lips and helps Dean’s head up. Dean drinks a little, then rest his head back on the pillow. He closes his eyes for a moment, then opens them again as he feels his body threatening to go back to sleep. He has this irrational fear of closes his eyes, in case he doesn’t open them again.

“You gave us all a pretty big scare,” the Duke tells him as he sits back on the armchair. “You almost died, you know?”

“How long have I been here?” Dean whispers.

“A few days. You lost a lot of blood. You had to have emergency surgery, but even then it was touch and go for a while. You’re stable now, so don’t worry, you can rest.”

“Can I see Cas first?”

The Duke looks down at his watch. “It’s 5.46 am, Dean. I don’t think he’ll be at the hospital for at least another hour.”

“Oh,” is Dean’s short reply. An overwhelming need to speak to his husband almost has him struggling out of his hospital bed, but something tell him his body wouldn’t make it past the door. Dean tries to move but again a blinging sharp pain has him groaning and gritting his teeth.

“Are you in pain?”

He’s not one to usually admit but but Dean knows his limits. He nods and turns to give his father in law a pleading look. The Duke understands and nods.

“I’ll call the nurse, she’ll give you some more morphine but first there’s something I need to tell you.

“You know, all those years ago, during the war… My highest general and I knew someone was leaking information to the enemies, we just couldn’t figure out who. I never told anyone before and I am ashamed to say it now but I foolishly suspected Castiel. _Castiel_ ! Out of all of them, my most loyal son… But I couldn’t confront him, I just couldn’t, because if it was true I would have to punish him, turn him in, and I just couldn’t… So I thought I had to force his hand, put him in a position in which he would be obligated to stop infiltrating information, I had to force his loyalty. So I used _you_ , Dean.”

Dean frowns, utterly confused, lips parting as he loses himself in the Duke’s confession.

“You see, Cas always thought he kept it secret, even from himself, but I am his father, I know him like no one else does, not even you. I knew he was in love with you even before he did himself. You’ll probably hate me for this, but I made sure your troops were in the front line of the fight, I made sure you were in danger so that Cas would not dare give our enemies information that could get you killed. It was obvious after that, after the information kept getting leaked, that it wasn’t him. He fought me almost to insubordination trying to end the war and get you home. How you never noticed will always be a mystery to me. It wasn’t just out of love for his people, it was out of love for _you_ , mostly. I told myself I would let you two figure it out yourselves, I always tried to give him as much freedom as I could, given the circumstances, but enough is enough.”

The man stands up, resting his weight on a cane, leaning over Dean’s bed with a expression that is both soft but demanding.

“You almost _died_ , Dean, without telling my son how you really feel and that would have destroyed him. He’s sat by your side every day, blaming himself for whatever’s been going on between you lately, wondering if he would ever have the chance to make it right. I don’t have the power to command you anymore and you certainly don’t owe me any favors, but as your father in law I urge you to have the courage to finally tell him how you feel because I am sure now, with how you jumped in front of him to protect him, that you love him just as much. Make this right. I _promise_ you, boy, he feels the same way.”

Speechless, Dean watches as the Duke squeezes his shoulder and gives him an unusually warm smile before he’s heading out of the room to look for a nurse. He barely has a minute to process everything he’s just learned because the man returns with a woman in scrubs who gives Dean more drugs that have him almost instantly passing out into a dreamless sleep.

When he wakes up, it’s obviously well into the afternoon. Once again he has to pull his thoughts together to remember where the hell he is and _why_. When he opens his eyes and he looks around, his eyes first land on his mother, sitting in the armchair were the Duke had been earlier (was it even the same day though?), napping. Even in her sleep, she looks tired. By the window, drinking water, is his husband. Without thinking Dean reaches a hand out towards him and knocks a book that was on the bed off the edge. At the sound, his mother jumps awake and Cas turns. They both stare at Dean for a second before she bursts into tears and Castiel rushes to his side. Mary reaches to cup his face on her hands and kisses him all over. Cas sits on the side of the bed and grab his hand, tears watering his eyes. Dean’s heart swells with emotion, overwhelmbed by how grateful he suddenly is to see his faces again which brings him back to all those years fighting in the war, not knowing when or if he’d ever see them again. He never wants to feel that way again.

“I’m okay,” he comforts them, feeling uncomfortable being the weak one in a hospital bed. Although, he supposes, it’s for the better that it’s him and not Cas there.

His mom sits back and noisily blows her nose. “Oh, honey, you don’t have to play tough!” she tells him.

“You almost died,” Castiel whispers, choking at the end, tears finally streaming down his face. “You were dying in my arms.”

The King breaks down completely, sobbing uncontrollably as he leans forwards to put his arms around Dean. Dean holds him back, exchanging a look with his mother. She runs her hand up and down Cas’ back, trying to calm herself down too.

“Well, I didn’t, Cas,” he whispers softly. His fingers comb through Castiel’s messy hair. It smells of shampoo and soap, a little of cologne. Dean’s happy to be close to him again, to be able to touch him. “I’m not going anywhere.”

Cas resurfaces only to kiss Dean sloppily. Dean tastes tears in the kiss but he doesn’t mind, he kisses his husband back with all the love and patience he should have kissed him with the first day they fought about the baby rumours. It doesn’t last long, Cas pulls away and tries to get a grip of himself in front of Mary. He takes a few deep calming breaths and sits in a stool by Dean’s bed, never letting go of his hand.

Dean is discharged from the hospital a few days later. He has to be carried out in a wheelchair which he tries to fight but can’t bring his mother or Cas to agree to let him walk from his room to the car waiting in the street. They both treat him like he’s made of glass and may shatter at any moment. John tries to ease Mary’s worries and he somewhat succeeds but there’s no winning with the King. At least he convinces them to let him walk from the entrance of the building to the car to avoid being seen like an invalid in front of the multitude of people and cameras waiting for them outside. He’s given a cane though, which he also tries to fight at first but honestly ends up being useful as he finds himself struggling to walk down the flight of stairs leading to the car. 

“Who the fuck puts so many stairs in a hospital entrance?” Dean hisses under his breath, low enough that only Cas can help as he helps Dean down the stairs. Cameras flash and catch him in a moment that he finds nothing short of embarrassing. He’s used to being a tough war soldier, not a weakling thing that needs a cane at the age of thirty something to walk down a dozen steps.

The people cheer and applaud him despite his embarrassment. Some throw flowers at him which, really, he appreciates it, but also he’s suddenly terrified he’s going to slip in them and open up his stitches which are gross and will leave an awful scar. But Cas never lets him fall, he’s there at his side, clutching his free arm to keep him steady and helps him to the car, where Dean finally slumps on the seats, accepting his defeat.

“Okay, yeah, that was harder than I thought,” he admits, a little out of breath.

Cas chuckles and sits close to him, clutching his hand. “Dean, it’s okay. Don’t strain yourself, okay? Let us— let… _me_ … take care of you. Okay? You’ve done enough.”

A little shy smile from his King has Dean melting into one of his own.

“Okay, Cas.”

The way up to their bedroom is hard for Dean. The palace has so many stairs, so _many fucking_ stairs Dean actually needs to take breaks until he finally arrives at his bed. He spends the rest of the day watching Scooby Doo with Jack and Cas. Sam has dinner with them in the bedroom, sitting at the foot of the bed until Jack falls asleep and he offers to take him to bed. He comes back to give his brother a hug that in not short of urgent affection, one that says _you scared the hell out of me_ , then leaves the King and his husband alone in bed.

Cas helps him undress, then he follows suit before getting under the covers with Dean. He gets so close to him, resting his head of Dean’s chest as Dean puts his arms around him, Castiel’s side of the bed is practically empty but Dean wouldn’t have it any other way. They lay like that in the dark, holding each other, Cas carefully avoiding to touch anywhere near Dean’s injury near his stomach. Dean revels in the proximity, the heat coming from Cas, the skin on skin contact. Oh, how he missed it all, how he missed Cas.

“Dean…”

“Yes?”

It takes Cas a minute to ask what he wants to know but he finally seems to make up his mind to do it.

“What were you trying to tell me?”

Dean doesn’t have to ask him to clarify what he means, he knows. Cas wants to know what Dean was trying to say as he choked on his words.

“Don’t you know, Cas?” Dean counters softly, drawing circles with his thumb on Castiel’s back. “I jumped in front of that gun, without even having to think about it, for the same reason you tried to stop the war. Because we’d do anything for each other. Because I love you and you love me.”

In the dark he feels Cas shift, moving closer to kiss him. Dean welcomes him, tasting Castiel, treasuring it like every kiss could be the last kiss. 

Against his lips, Castiel asks, “how long have you known?”

“I had my suspicions,” Dean admits. “But your dad told me the first day I woke up in the hospital.”

“... _What?_ ”

Dean chuckles. “I know, it was a bit weird, but I’m glad he told me. I’ve wanted to tell you for so long but I was never sure if you felt the same. I was hoping you did but with that whole thing… with… you know, Lisa...”

Cas sighs. “Dean, I’m so sorry about that. I overreacted.”

“You were jealous,” Dean teases him, kicking his foot affectionately. In response, Cas bites his necks softly.

“Yeah, okay, I was jealous. Are you happy?”

“A little,” Dean chuckles, but then his lips are searching for Castiel’s again. Dean kisses him long and slowly, putting every bit of love he had for Cas into it. “But you should know, Cas, _you_ are my priority, always have been. There’s no one like you and there has never been.”

“I believe you,” Cas replies, interrupting himself to kiss Dean. “And I feel the same. I wanted to tell you too, so many times…”

“Tell me. Tell me now, Cas, tell me a thousand times.”

“I love you, Dean. I love you. I love you.”

“Why did you stop?” Dean teases. “You still have 997 times to go.”

Cas bites his neck again and Dean chuckles. His heart is so full of joy, he feels it’s going to burst. Maybe he died after all, he thinks, and this is just paradise. He couldn’t think of anything better.

“Tomorrow,” Cas says, resting his head on the pillow. “It’ll tell you tomorrow.”

“And the day after that?”

Cas nods. “And all the days to come too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed the story. Thank you for reading, for your kudos and your comments  
> <3


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